THE  PAST  AND  THE  PRESENT. 


A 

DISCOURSE, 

DELIVERED   CEFOIIE 

TEE  ra(D)g(D)]FeiI(S  §®(GII]Ef  ¥ 

OF   THE 

UNIVERSITY  O  F  ALABAMA. 


BY  BENJAMIN  FANEUIL  PORTER. 


"  Among  themselves  all  things 
Have  order ;  and  from  hence  the  form,  which  makes 
The  universe  resemble  God.     In  this 
The  higher  creatures  see  the  printed  steps 
Of  that  eternal  vi^orth,  which  is  the  end 
Whither  the  line  is  drawn.     All  natures  lean, 
On  this  their  order,  diversely;  some  more, 
Some  less  approaching  to  their  primal  source. 
Thus  they  to  different  havens  are  moved  on 
Through  the  vast  sea  of  being,  and  each  one 
With  irstinct  given,  that  bears  it  in  its  course  : 
This  to  the  lunar  sphere  directs  the  fire. 
This  moves  the  hearts  of  mortal  animals 
This  the  brute  earth  together  knits  and  binds." 

Dante — Paradise.   Canto  I. 


TUSKALOOSA : 

PRINTED   BY    M.    D.    J.    SLADE. 

1845. 


THE  PAST  AND  THE  PRESENT. 


BISCOURSE, 


DELIVERED   BEFORE 


fffllE  11(D§(DIP]EII(G  S^OEf Y 


UNIVERSITY  OF  ALABAMA. 


By   benjamin  FANEUIL    PORTER. 


"  Among  themselves  all  things 
Have  order ;  and  from  hence  the  form,  which  makes 
The  universe  resemble  God.     In  this 
The  higher  creatures  see  the  printed  steps 
Of  that  eternal  worth,  which  is  the  end 
Whither  the  line  is  drawn.     All  natures  lean, 
on  this  their  order,  diversely  ;  some  more. 
Some  less  approaching  to  their  primal  source. 
Thus  they  to  different  havens  are  moved  on 
Through  the  vast  sea  of  being,  and  each  one 
With  instinct  given,  that  bears  it  in  its  course  : 
This  to  the  lunar  sphere  directs  the  fire. 
This  moves  the  hearts  of  mortal  animals 
This  the  brute  earth  together  knits  and  binds." 

Dante — Paradise.    Canto  L 


TUSCALOOSA : 

PRINTED    BY    M.    D.    J.    SLADE, 

184  5. 


Erosopihc  Hall,  December  11th,  1845. 
Dear  Sir  : 

We  have  been  appointed  a  Committee  in  bclialf  of  the  Erosophic 

Society  of  the  University  of  Alabama,  to  tender  you  their  grateful  acknowledg- 
ments for  the  very  able,  appropriate,  and  deeply  instructive  Address,  delivered  bj 
you  before  that  Association  on  the  occasion  of  its  Fourteenth  Anniversary,  and  to 
request  a  copy  of  the  same  for  publication. 

Permit  us  to  add  to  the  uja divided  wishes  of  the  body  we  represent,  our  personal 
solicitations. 

We  respectfully  subscribe  ourselves, 
Your's,  «Scc. 

N.  ALFRED  AGEE, 
C.  D.  GRAHAM, 
A.  H.  HOPE, 

Hon.  B.  F.  Porter. 


>  Com VI i 


(rentlemen  : 

Your  invitation,  on  the  part  of  the  Erosophic  Society,  to  furnish  a 
copy  of  my  Discourse,  on  the  occasion  of  its  Anniversary,  for  pubHcation,  will  be 
iComplied  with,  as  soon  as  I  can  have  it  copicd- 

Bc  pleased  to  return  my  tlianks  to  the  Society,  for  the  gracious  estimate  placed  on 
that  effort  to  serve  its  high  interests;  and  receive,  personally,  the  assurances  of  my 

Devoted  respect, 

BENJAMIN  F.  PORTER. 
Tl'scaloosa,  28th  December,  1814. 


(r 


Limmry*  J 


DISCOURSE. 


A  few  facts,  simple  in  ihemselves,  but  wonderful  m 
their  connexion  and  results,  make  up  the  entire  history 
of  man,  and  explain  his  relation  to  the  planet  he  inha- 
bits.     The  earth,  itself,  is  but  a  vast  tomb  of  buried 
matter,  man  but  the  rudiment  of  a  future.     Both  are 
destined    to   a   more  perfect  and    usefid  state.      The 
one  to  become  the  base  of  mighty  physical  changes, 
the   other   the  source  of  moral   and   intellectual   re- 
forms.    If,   on  the  one  hand,  all  is  destruction,,  so,  on 
the  other,   all   is  re-production.     Nothing  lives  or  pe- 
rishes without  its  purpose.     No  variation  in  nature  oc- 
curs in  vain.     If  fires  burst  forth  from  the  centre  of  our 
globe,   and   heave,   and    twist,   and    break    into  frag- 
ments, immense  beds  of  rock  ;  if  the  fountains  of  the 
great  deep   are   broken   up,    and    the  winds  rushing 
from  their  prison  house,  overturn  the  barriers  between 
sea  and  land  ;  if  empires  are  destroyed  ;  if  whole  races 
of  men  become  extinct,  and   the  records  of  their  sci- 
ences crumble  to  dust ; — it  is  only  that  new  seas  and 
new  lands,  new  races  of  beings,  and  new  civilization, 
may  rise  in  their  places.     All,  from  the  land  we  stand 
upon,  to  the  most  refined  intelligence,  is  in  a  state  of 
progression.      Each  atom  of  existence  forms  a  part  of 
that  great  system,  which  evolves  the  destiny  of  man, 
and  advances  him  nearer  and  nearer  towards  his  God. 
There  may  be  discovered  in  many  of  the  writers  and 
speakers  of  the  day,  a  disposition  to  undervalue  the 
times  in  which  we  live.  They  condemn  the  present,  as 
degenerate,  and  mourn  the  future  as  beset  with  disas- 


trous  revolutions.  Even  poetry  and  eloquence  lend  their 
aid  to  theabuse  of  every  tbins;  modern,  Tbe  orator,  a- 
midst  t'le  ruins  of  Rome  awakens  generous  sympalbies 
for  her  fate,  and  recalls  the  age  of  her  Scipio  and  Mar- 
cellus.  The  Foet,  at  Marathon,  narrates  in  plaintive 
verse  the  beauty  oftlie  Instituto  is  of  Greece,  and  utters 
mournful  judgments  upon  her  oppressors.  They  forget, 
that  the  germ  of  a  new  being  reposes  in  every  perishing 
husk.  The  nations,  the  institutions,  tbe  men  of  one 
age,  are  but  dead  bodies  to  t!ie  souls  of  succeeding 
times.  Death  is  the  sleep  from  which  another  exis- 
tence wakes  up.  Like  the  green  Ivy,  which  reaches  its 
utmost  height  only  through  time-broken  cre^dces,  each 
era  lives  and  advances  upon  the  ruins  of  the  last.  The 
flame  which  burned  so  brilhantly  on  the  altars  of  the 
Grecian,  it  is  true,  is  extinguished  there ;  but  it  en- 
liorhtens  lands  boastino-  a  more  rational  and  wide- 
ly  diffused  liberty.  The  towers  of  the  nodding  Illion, 
it  is  true,  cannot  be  traced  by  the  traveler,  and  the 
Rome  of  Augustus  is  no  more ;  but  the  verse  of 
Homer  and  of  Virgil,  and  the  history  of  the  Gracchi 
and  of  Socrates  survive:  The  Senate  house  and  the 
hill  of  Mars  no  more  sound  to  the  voices  of  Demos- 
thenes and  Cicero  ;  but  their  language  still  imparts 
lessons  of  eloquence,  and  excites  eternal  enmity  to  ty- 
ranny. The  monument  of  art  which  once  hailed  the 
morning  sun  in  mysterious  tones,  echoes  now  but  to  the 
labors  of  a  Champollion  and  Rossellini ;  but  still  it  re- 
cords the  vanity  of  man,  and  exists  as  the  vindicator 
of  the  awful  providences  of  God.  It  is  folly,  my  friends, 
to  regard  as  calamities,  events,  which  give  impulses  tp 
religion,  morals,  the  arts,  and  the  sciences.  In  the  his- 
tory of  nations  and   men  destroyed  and   dead,  truth 


stands  defined.  Each  existence  as  it  passes  away,  is 
but  the  precurser  of  others,  constantly  throwing  off 
their  defects,  and  assuming  nobler  capacities^  in  the 
wonderful  plan  of  nature. 

When  it  is  considered,  that  all  the  arrangements  of 
this  mighty  scheme  end,  so  far  as  we  can  judge,  in  this 
existence,  with  man  ;  that  every  revolution  of  mind 
and  matter  brincrs  about  some  chanore  in  the  condition 
of  his  life;  that,  as  if  to  seize  upon  the  moment  of  such 
change,  still  further  to  benefit  his  race,  providence  has 
endowed  him  with  capacities  of  thought  and  language, 
superior  to  all  animals  ;  it  would  seem  that  he  would 
present,  in  every  age,  some  distinguishing  trait  of  mo- 
ral beauty.  That  there  would  be  something  apparent 
in  his  nature,  at  all  times  and  under  all  circumstances, 
elevating  him,  in  the  pride  of  mental  power,  above  in- 
animate and  brute  creation  ;  tnat  his  constant  occupa- 
tion w^ould  be  to  cultivate  his  nobler  faculties,  refine 
his  intellectual  gifts,  and  raise  his  moral  far  beyond  the 
influence  of  his  physical  relations.  But,  alas  !  in  un-. 
folding  the  map  of  his  history,  we  are  humbled  at  the 
view  of  man's  varied  condition  ;  sometimes  in  the 
height  of  civilization  ;  sometimes  in  the  depths  of 
misery.  The  race,  w^hether  regarded  as  societies  or 
individuals,  appears  to  have  reached  certain  eleva- 
tions, only  to  decline.  From  the  rudest  assemblages 
of  robbers  and  outcasts,  they  have  advanced  to  im- 
proved societies.  Again  these  have  become  slaves  of 
barbarians  or  remnants  of  scattered  tribes.  We  have 
seen  them  rise  great  in  the  arts  of  war  and  peace,  a- 
chieving  splendid  victories,  attaining  unlimited  power, 
only  to  violate  the  rights  of  their  associates,  and  waste, 
in  the  extravagance  of  a  prodigal  ambition,  the  blood 


of  millions  of  men.  We  have  seen  the  mass,  at  the  bid- 
ding of  one,  no  way  their  superior,  except  in  fancied 
station  or  impudent  enterprise,  driven,  in  war,  to  the 
slaughter,  like  herds  of  unresisting  cattle  ;  in  peace, 
expending  the  labors  of  their  generation,  to  sustain  the 
glare  aud  consequence  of  a  few  interested  rulers.  Why 
this  1  Is  it  possible  that  man  is  placed  on  the  earth  for 
these  purposes  only  1  Is  war  his  natural  element ;  a 
contest  with  his  fellow  men  his  pleasure  ?  Are  fraud, 
hypocrisy,  sensuality,  his  chief  qualifications  ?  Surely 
not.  The  triumphs  of  vice  and  crim^e  over  virtue,  the 
success  of  falsehood  over  truth,  the  advantage  of  pow- 
er over  justice,  are  but  convulsions  of  the  moral  world, 
fruitful  in  the  noblest  moral  reformations.  Man,  the 
object  of  all  revolution,  constantly  improves.  In  defi- 
ance of  his  opposition,  nature  vindicates  her  laws. 
Notwithstanding  his  destruction,  all  is  life  ;  independ- 
ent of  his  sloth,  all  is  progression. 

To  prove  these  truths,  go  with  me,  if  you  please,  in- 
to a  detail  of  some  of  the  physical  and  intellectual  pro- 
cesses, through  which  the  state  of  Progression,  to  which 
I  have  adverted,  is  unfolded. 

1.  The  first  evidence  to  which  I  call  attention,  is  the 
phenomena  presented  in  the  structure  of  the  earth. 

When  we  examine  the  composition  and  arrange- 
ment of  the  materials  formincr  the  mass  of  matter  on 
which  we  live,  w^e  discover  rocks,  minerals,  and,  in  a 
popular  sense,  earths  of  various  qualities.  In  some 
places  we  see  a  loose, red,  brown,  and  while  soil,  crum- 
bled into  powder,  and  forming  the  general  surface- 
In  others  we  find  horizontal  masses  of  rock  spread  out 
in  strata  or  beds,  one  resting  upon  the  other.  Again, 
we  see  these  strata  twisted  and   raised  up  from  their 


flat  position,  and  cones  of  harder  and  chrystallated 
rock,  in  which  no  strata  are  discoverable,  forced  up 
through  them.  In  some  of  these  we  notice  remains  of 
vegetable  matter;  in  others  of  animals.  In  some  places 
we  find  rocks  rolled  and.rounded  as  if  by  some  violent 
action ;  m  others  we  see  particles  deposited  as  if  by  the 
gentlest  motion.  Cutting  into  beds  of  some  rocks,  we 
behold  viens  of  metal  injected  into  fissures.  Often  the 
rocks  themselves  seem  melted  as  if  by  suppressed  fires. 
When  we  descend  into  the  interior  of  the  earth,  we 
have  a  sensation  of  heat  increasing  at  the  rate  of  one 
degree  for  every  fifty  feet ;  when  we  examine  its  sur- 
face we  find  something  like  two  hundred  mouths  vomit- 
ing forth  internal  fires.  But  to  illustrate  these  phe- 
nomena further  : — if  we  see  in  the  bosom  of  the  earth, 
a  body  of  rock,  not  spread  oat  into  layers,  having  the 
appearance  of  being  once  melted  by  fire;  if  this  rock 
presents  no  sign  of  animal  or  vegetable  remains,  it  is 
no  strained  conclusion,  that  it  was  moulded  amidst  in- 
tense fires,  and  surrounded  by  an  atmosphere  of  too 
high  temperature  for  the  existence  of  organised  life. 

Again — If  we  discover  rocks  of  different  chemical 
composition,  lying  in- strata,  having  the  appearance  of 
the  deposits  we  now  see  formed  from  water,  if  of  great 
thickness,  and  full  of  the  remains  of  vegetables, — it  is 
a  just  conclusion  that  these  also  are  deposits  from  wa- 
ter, the  work  of  ages  ;  and  that  heat  and  moisture,  the 
chief  conditions  of  vegetable  life,  prevailed. 

If  in  the  strata  of  other  rocks,  we  find  the  remains 
of  organised  life,  which  could  not  have  existed  in  an 
atmosphere  necessary  to  the  vegetation  last  consider- 
ed, it'is  but  just  to  believe,  that  a  lower  temperature, 


10 

suited  to  their  habits  of  life  and  capacities,  must  have 
existed. 

If  coming  nearer,  in  supposition,  to  our  own  times, 
we  see  evidences  of  ungovernable  floods  of  water  hav- 
inor  rushed  in  manv  directions,  rollino^- frao:ments  of 
rocks  into  globes,  again  reducing  them  to  gra^^el,  again 
cutting  Grooves  into  granite — if  we  see  remains  of  ani- 
mals of  vast  physical  powers,  whose  existence  could 
be  safely  subjected  to  an  atmosphere  of  intense  tem- 
perature, and  then,  after  their  races- had  becom'e  ex- 
tinct, we  see  the  first  proofs  of  man's  appearance  on  the 
earth,  can  it  be  called  a  wild  mental  scheme  to  assert, 
that  in  different  times  and  places,  the  earth  was  sub- 
jected to  a  deluge  of  water  ;  that  physical  life  gradu- 
ally declined  as  a  cooler  atmosphere  and  other  cir- 
cumstances combined,  to  prepare  the  way  for  a  more 
intellectual  being. 

Lastly, — if  reviewing  all  these- things  we  find  no- 
thing lost  amidst  the  revolutions  of  earth  ;  if*  lead,  sul- 
phur, mercury,  zinc,  volatilized,  or  rising  into  vapor 
and  floating  in  air,  through  the  influence  of  heat,  have 
on  the  cooling  of  the  atmosphere,  been  precipitated  on 
the  earth,  and  by  flei-y  eruptions  ejected  in  veins 
throughout  the  crust  of  the  globe  ;  if  fires  or  other 
causes,  have  raised  up  the  mouths  of  these  veins  to  ex- 
hibit their  treasures  and  invite  the  labor  of  man  ;  if  gi- 
gantic vegetation,  produced  by  superabundant  heat, 
and  moisture,  instead  of  being  suffered  to  rot  and  pol- 
lute the  ataiosphere,  has  been  pressed  down  by  super- 
incumbent masses,  and,  by  the  slow  action  of  suppress- 
ed fires,  consumed  into  coal;  if  animal  matter,  instead  of 
sending  forth,  in  dying,  putrescent  vapors,  has  been 
changed  to  saltpetre,  bitumen,  and  other  substances ;  if 


11 

astronomical*  calculations  show  that  a  mass  of  burning 
matter  revolving  for  a  succession  of  ages  would  assume 
the  shape  pf  an  oblong  spher.e,  oblate  or  flattened  at  the 
extremities  of  a  presum.ed  axis,  the  very  shape  of  the 
earth  ;  if  new  mountains  have  risen  from  seas,  and 
continents  disappeared  to  give  place  to  new  seas  ;  if, 
in  connexion  with  all  these  vicissitudes,  the  physical 
and  the  moral  condition  of  nature  has  improved,  what 
let  us  ask  here,  results  from  these  facts  and  indications? 
Simply  the  truths  of  Geology — one  of  the  most  sub- 
lime, because  fehe  most  natural  of  sciences;  gne  whose 
volume  is  the  great  globe  itself,  unfolding  its  noble 
pages  of  granite  and  crystal,  and  metal,  as  if  to  dis- 
close in  characters  of  fire,  the  awful  truths  of  nature, 
and  reveal  to  the  present  age  their  once  incomprehen- 
sible narrations. 

Such  being  the  facts  of  Geology,  such  its  evi^lences, 
such  its  conclusions,  such  its  lessons  of  wisdom,  go 
with  me,  if  you  please,  through  such  further  enquiries, 
testing  its  principles  and  inferences,  as  bear  upon  the 
plan  and  object  of  my  discourse. 

1.  You  are  told  by  this  Science  that  in  the  first  epoch 
of  the  phenomena,  the  earth  was  surrounded  by  an  at- 
mospihere  too  dense  for  animal  life.  The  first  enquiry 
prompted,  is,   Why  should  such  an  atmosphere  exist  1 

Various  substances,  such  as  water,  lead,  sulphur, 
mercury,  and  zinc,  are  easily  reduced  to  an  aeriform 
state.  We  have  many  chernical  affinities  to  prove, 
that  such  substances  must  have  existed  in  connexion 
with  the  earth,  during  the  period  of  its  primitive  revo- 
lutions. Apply  the  chemical  law,  that  the  higher  the 
temperature,  the  more  rapid  the  evaporation,  and  it  is 
evident,  that  the  greater  the  heat  of  the  surface  of  the 


crust  of  the  earth,  the  more  extensive  must  have  been 
the  volatilization  of  these  substances.  Thus  was  pro- 
duced the  density  of  the  atmosphere. 

2.  It  is  said,  that  the  cooling  crust,  formed  by  the 
gradual  retreat  of  the  fires  to  the  centre  of  the  earth, 
continued  to  augment,  as  the  cooling  process  advanced. 
Why  should  this  mass  augment  1 

If  the  materials  mentioned  as  producing,  by  volati- 
lization, a  dense  atmosphere,  were  kept  by  the  high 
temperature  of  the  earth  in  a  sublimated  or  aeriform 
state,  it  f(il low^s  that  they  w^ould  be  brought  to  their  ori- 
ginal condition,  through  the  influence  of  cold.  The 
w'ater,  lead,  sulphur,  mercury,  and  zinc,  rendered  aeri- 
form, by  heat,  assumed  their  first  form,  when  that  heat 
subsided.  Too  weighty  to  be  kept  in  the  air,  they 
were  precipitated  on  the  earth,  and  thus  they  aug- 
mented its  volume.  When  the  t*emperature  was  still 
further  lowered,  water,  permitted  to  remain  in  its  liquid 
state,  produced  new  accessions,  by  precipitation  and 
crvstalizati-m. 

The  materials  thus  cast  upon  the  earth,  in  cooling, 
assumed  various  positions.  Thus — the  water  is  sepa- 
rated from  land,  and  poured  into  permanent  basins  : 
the  lead,  sulphur,  mercury,  zinc,  are  branched  off  into 
arteries  throughout  the  body  of  the  rocks.  Why  this? 
A  pressure  of  fluids,  interior  contractions,  possibly  the 
influence  of  electricity,  induced  ruptures  of  the  solid 
crust  of  the  earth.  Thus  deep  chasms  were  formed, 
and  the  water  deposited  upon  adjacent^parts,  rushing 
to  these  depressions,  formed  lakes  and  seas.  Internal 
fires,  breaking  forth  from  the  centre  of  the  earth,  melt- 
ed rocks  and  metals,  sent  granites  violently  upwards 
through  superincumbent  materials,  effused  the  fluid 


•  13 

mass  through  various  fissures  of  the  reposing  super- 
structure, and  ejected  the  metalHc  veins  throughout  the 
convulsed  body  of  our  planet. 

3.  It  is  further  spjd,  that  the  first  organic  develop- 
ments upon  the  crust  of  the  earth,  were  an  abundant 
and. gigantic  race  of  vegetables,, to  which  w-ere  denied, 
in  a  great  degree,  the  means  of  re-production.* 

Why  v^^as  this  ? 

We  always  find  present  in  the  atmospltere,  a  fluid 
known  as  carbonic  acid.  If  the  atmosphere  were 
mixed  with  more  than  eight  per  cent,  of  this  fluid,  it 
would  be  unfit,  for  respiration,  and  therefore  fatal  to  or- 
dinary animal  life.  Still,  this  fluids  so  deleterious  to 
animals,  is  essential  to  plants,  which  absorb  it  by  their 
leaves  and  roots.  Another  fluid,  oxygen,  without 
which  animals  cannot  live,  forms  a  large  portion  of  the 
atmosphere.  Now  this,  when  vegetables  decay,  is  giv- 
en to  the  atmosphere.  Thus  we  see  the  existence  of 
plants  improves  the  atmosphere  by  disposing  of  the 
carbonic  acid,  which  is  fatal  to  the  lives  of  animals,  and 
renewing  oxygen,  without  which  they  cannot  exist. 
If  we  now  suppose  the  presence  of  an  atmosphere  too 
highly  impregnated  witii  carbonic  acid  for  the  exist- 
ence of  animal  life,  and  deficient  in  the  necessary  oxy- 
gen, we  can  perceive  that  the  readiest  w^ay  of  decom- 
posing th«  one,  and  of  supplying  the  other,  would  be 
the  production  of  a  race  of  vegetables.  Now  carbonic 
acid  exists  in  the  different  varieties  of  limestt)ne,  mar- 
ble, and  chalk,  and  is  separated  by  combustion.   When 


*  Cryplogamia,  Linneeus — Class,  Acotyledonous — Class,  Monocoty- 

ledonous. 


14  -    • 

it  is  remembered  that  the  secondary  formations  of  the 
crust  of  the  earth,  were  of  rocks  of  this  character,  and 
that  the  earth's  temperature  was  high,  it  is  seen  that  an 
immense  quantity  of  carbonic  acid  must  have^been  dis- 
charged from  the  earth,  and  filled  the  atmosphere  with 
an  element  well  calculated  to  nourish  a  numerous  and 
gigantic  race  of  plants.  Looking  into  the  remains  found 
among  the  rocks  of  this  period,  we  see  that  such  a  race 
was  produced  ;  that  it  was  limited  in  the  capacity  of 
re-production,  and  not  suitable  as  food  for  man.  This 
race  seems,  therefore,  to  have  been  formed  for  the  sin-* 
gle  occasion.  While  nourished  by  a  superabundant 
carbonic  acid,  it  consumed  it,  gradually  reducing  its 
volume,  and  thus  preparing  the  way  for  animal  life. 

4.  If  the  vegetation  of  which  we  have  spoken,  was 
designed  for  the  occasion,  of  course,  as  the  quantity  of 
carbonic  acid  was  thus  gradually  consumed,  the  vege- 
tation became  useless.  If  it  had  died  and  rotted,  new 
carbonic  acid  w^duld  have  resulted  from  its  slow  de- 
composition, and  the  end  of  its  consumption  been  de- 
feated.    How  was  it  disposed  of? 

1.  By  Providence  calling  into  existence,  as  we  see 
by  their  various  remains,  a  race  of  gigantic  animals,* 
by  their  habits  and  capacities,  adapted  to  the  destruc- 
tion of  vegetable  matter  ;  and  capable  of  living  in  an 
excess  of  heat  and  moisture,  unaffected  by  ihe  poiso- 
nous atmosphere  of  the  period. 

2.  By  producing  various  convulsions,  submerging 
this  vegetation  under  accumulations  of  mud  and  sand, 
subjecting  it  to  subterraneous  heat,  and  thus  giving  rise 


Palajolherium,  Anoplothcrium,  &;c. 


15 

to  the  strata  of  mineral  coal,  extending  in  beds  of  va- 
rious thickness  throughout  our  own  country  and  others, 
and  supplying  millions  with  fuel.  What  a  beautiful 
illustration  of  the  truth,  that  nature  does  nothing  in 
vain  ;  determines  that  none  of  her  works  shall  be  use- 
less ;  gives  even  to  decaying  matter  its  business  and 
function  in  that .  well  organized  machinery,  which 
holds  a  world  together  in  perfect  and  dependant  har- 
mony. 

5.  Tt  is  said  that  all  these  phenomena  depend,  for 
the  most  part,  on  the  destruction  of  rocks,  the  altera- 
tion of  whole  races  of  vegetables,  the  immolation  of 
entire  classes  of  animals.     Why  was  this  1 

The  reply  is  in  the  soil,  which  is  but  the  rotted  rock, 
detached  by  air  and  water  from  the  mountain,  crum- 
bled and  rolled  into  the  cultivated  valley.  Again,  it  is 
found  in  the  freezing  water,  which  expanding,  tears 
these  rocks  asunder,^  the  better  to  undergo  the  pro- 
cess of  decomposition.  Again,  see  the  answer  in 
the  coal  beds,  and  metalhc.  veins  whose  mouths  are 
raised  up  and  expanded  to  the  view  by  heat  and  elec- 
tricity, and  for  the  convenience  of  man  ;  in  the  salts  re- 
sulting from  animal  remains,  so  necessary  to  the  pur- 
poses of  life,  so  extensively  used  in  chemistry,  the 
trades  and  sciences  of  men  ;  again,  see  the  reply  in  the 
beautifully  variegated  marble  of  your  pallaces  and  por- 
tico'B,  the  streaks  and  tints  of  which  owe  their  beauti- 
ful combination  to  bitumen,  the  refuse  of  animal  and 
Vegetable  matter.  Will  it  now  be  asked  why  did  na- 
ture destroy  all  these,  that  man  might  live  ?  Has  man, 
who  asks  the  question,  destroyed  nothing,  he  who  sin- 
gles out  from  the  great  scheme,  a  single  exception  on 
which  to  rest  his  objections  to  a  Providence  governing 


10 

a  world  of  millions  of  beinos  in  numberless  rela- 
tions  1  Will  the  effects  of  the  slaughter  of  the  hosts 
butchered  for  pride,  ambition,  and  vengeance,  compare 
with  what  the  Ruler  of  the  universe  has  brought  forth 
out  of  his  destructions?  In  the  providence  of  God 
every  thino-  is  useful.  Nature  illustrates,  'even  in  her 
desolations,  the  sublime  sentiment,  "  From  the  tops  of 
the  rocks  I  see  Him,  and  from  the  hill^  I  behold  -Him."^ 

Before  leaving  this  interesting  Science,  permit  me 
to  indulge  in  a  few  reflections  upon  its  wonderful 
adaptations. 

If  the  phenomena  we  have  considered,  were  only 
partially  developed,  good  grounds  of  objection  to  the 
science  would  exist.  But  on  the  contrary,  every  part 
of  the  world  presents  striking  proofs,  that  the  scheme 
supposed  by  its  advocates  is  universal,  and  runs  beau- 
tifully parallel  with'the  life  and  employments  of  man. 

Thus — In  England,  iron  ore,  coal  to  reduce  it,  lime- 
stone, used  to  fuse  it,  clay  for  the  furnace,  are  found 
inter-stratified  within  short  distances.  The  mountains 
of  Sweden  and  Norway  contain  extensive  beds  of  mag- 
netic iron  ore :  the  only  fuel  fit  for  its  manufacture, 
wood  charcoal,  nature  supplies  in  immense  forests  of 
pines.  All  over  the  earth  we  find  granites.  This  ar- 
rangement will  not  be  considered  without  design,  when 
it  is  stated  on  the  authority  of  able  chemists,  that  they 
are  the  natural  depositories  of  the  alkalies,  so  essential 
to  the  fertility  of  the  soil ;  so  necessary  to  the  support 
of  both  the  vegetable  and  animal  economy.  Again, 
between  animals  and  vegetables,  there  seems  to  be 
constantly  going  on  a  process,  by  which  certain  quali- 
ties are  produced  and  assimilated.  A  table  of  these 
prepared  by  an  eminent  writer,  beautifully  exhibits 


17 

this  "  chain  of  vital  phenomena."  Thus— the  vegeta*^ 
ble  functions  produce  neutral  azotised  substances,  fat- 
ty substances,  sugar,  starch,  and  gum  :  The  animal 
functions  consume  them.  The  vegetable  functions 
decompose  carbonic  acid,  water,  and  ammoniacal  salts, 
the  animal  functions  produce  these;  the  vegetable 
functions  disengage  oxygen,  the  animal  absorb  it;  the 
first  absorb  heat  and  electricity,  the  last  produce  them ; 
the  one  is  the  apparatus  of  reduction,  the  other  of  oxi- 
dation ;  the  first  is  stationary,  the  other  locomotive. — 
Is  it  more  a  draft  upon  the  imagination,  to  assert  that 
all  these  things  were  designed  to  prepare  the  earth 
and  its  materials  for  the  abode  of  man,  than  to  con- 
clude from  the  appearances  of  the  monuments  of  Egypt 
or  the  sculptured  walls  of  Petrse,  that  they  were  the 
work  of  human  beings  in  a  state  of  high  mechanical 
improvement  I 

II.  We  have  so  far  traced  the  physical  organiza- 
tion of  nature.  We  have  seen  our  planet  a  burning 
mass  cooling  gradually,  and  forming  a  crust  upon  its 
sm'face;  we  have  noticed  the  first  organic  formations 
from  the  crude  plant  to  the  latest  form  of  irrational 
animal  matter.  We  have  seen  them  produced  and 
perish  in  their  successions,  and  changed  into  rocky  and 
mineral  substances.  Lastly,  upon  their  tombs,  we 
have  seen  man,  an  intellectual  and  moral  being,  ap- 
pear.    Why  does  he  live;  why  does  he  die  1 

Man  bears  the  relation  to  the  moral  world  that  the 
primitive  rocks,  the  foundations  of  the  earth,  bear  to 
physical  nature.  Both  have  been  gradually  develop- 
ed; both  have  served,  in  their  turn,  the  eternal  pur- 
poses of  truth  and  justice.  In  the  one  case,  we  have 
seen  the  rocks  raised  up  amidst  awful  convulsions,  on- 


18 

ly  to  crumble  beneath  external  influences  and  fertilize 
the  plain ;  we  will  now  trace,  in  the  other,  the  process 
of  mental  developments,  as  they  have  gradually,  but 
certainly  advanced  towards  perfection  and  usefulness. 
In  this  point  of  view,  we  proceed  to  institute  a  com- 
parison of  various  characteristics  of  the  religion,  phi- 
losophy, laws,  scientific  improvements,  and  social  man- 
ners of  the  human  race. 

•  Among  .various  traits  distinguishing  the  present, 
from  past  ages,  we  may  mark,  as  most  appropriate  to 
our  subject,  the  fact  that  every  modern  improvement, 
every  new  institution,  every  triumph  of  mind,  indi- 
cates a  remarkable  adaptation  to  the  useful  purposes 
of  life.  We  may  therefore  repeat  the  trite  saying, 
that  the  age  of  chivalry  and  romance  is  gone,  without 
mourning  its  absence.  Endowed  by  nature  with  a 
peculiar  veneration  for  antiquity,  we  all  indulge  our- 
selves in  a  species  of  poetic  frenzy,  with  regard  to  the 
men  and  institutions  of  the  olden  time.  This  may 
arise  from  the  fact,  that  our  first  conceptions  of  these 
are  obtained  in  youth,  when  the  mind,  full  of  warm 
hope,  and  brilliant  imagination,  seizes  hold  upon  the 
circumstances  having  a  tendency  to  excite  these  fa- 
culties. A  simple  truth  of  history,  like  a  single  ray  of 
light  separated  in  the  phenomena  of  polarization,  thus 
produces  various  colors  calculated  to  amuse  the  fancy. 
It  is  reserved  for  an  age,  deeply  reflective  upon  the 
character  of  events  to  appreciate-  the  assertion,  that 
taking  the  same  number  of  persons,  and  separating 
from  the  history  of  former  times  their  brilliant  pageant- 
ry— Take  from  their  religion,  its  superstitious  horrors, 
and  gorgeous  ceremonies ;  from  war,  its  martial  music 
and  splendid  decorations;  from  their  orators,  the  oc- 


19 

casion ;  and  from  their  manners,  their  pleasures ;  and' 
the  whole  scene  in  comparison  with  the  habits  and  in- 
ventions and  institutions  of  the  last  fifty  years  will  fade 
like  the  evanescent  cloud  breathed  upon  a  mirror. — 
We  wish  not  to  be  understood  as  depreciating  the  facts 
or  the  men  of  other  ages.  On  the  contrary,  we  single 
out  exceptions,  and  say,  they  furnish  examples  from 
whence  moderns  have  derived  many,  very  many  of 
their  best  lessons,  and  most  valuable  principles  in  eve- 
ry branch  of  knowledge.  We  only  say,  that  as  a  mass, 
men  of  this  day  as  much  exceed  in  mind  and  morals, 
those  living  two  hundred  years  ago,  as  those  living 
two  hundred  years  hence,  will  exceed  the  present 
generation. 

For  the  proof,  compare  in  the  first  place,  the  reli- 
gion of  men. 

1.  That  beautiful  system  of  religious  duty,  so  ex- 
tensively adopted  by  the  civilized  world,  and  so  re- 
markably preserved  amidstthe  most  extraordinary  con- 
vulsions of  time,  has  depended,  for  its  propagation, 
upon  the  simplest  truths.  Unlike  every  other  system, 
it  has  been  established  in  peace;  without  force,  and 
without  money.  No  war,  no  human  sacrifices,  no  po- 
litical connexions,  lie  at  the  base  of  its  structure.  Its 
promoters  have  been  disinterested ;  its  sentiments 
couched  in  the  sublimest  simplicity  of  language.  It  has 
interfered  with  the  authority  of  no  government;  with 
no  man's  social  duty :  It  has  taught  obedience  to  the 
law ;  embraced  among  its  commands  every  regulation 
necessary  in  life;  enforced  benevolence;  united  the 
family  circle;  and  even  required  the  slave  to  obey  his 
master.  We  are  struck  as  we  contemplate  its  history 
with  two  remarkable  facts  connected  with  its  rise  and 


1 


20 

progress.  *At  first,  we  see  it  established  in  a  part  of 
the  world,  then  the  centre  of  civilization,  knowledge, 
and  power.  We  perceive  a  race  selected  for  its  pre- 
sei'vation  separated  by  peculiar  religious  tenets  and 
singular  nationality  from  the  rest  of  mankind.  We 
see  it  preserved  through  various  ages;  and  every 
eminent  guardian  or  head  of  this  race,  devoting  him- 
self to  a  propagation  of  its  sentiments.  The  Jews,  the 
depositories  of  this  system,  seem  in  all  their  history  up 
to  the  time  of  Christ,  to  be  the  singular  object  of  God^s 
providence  and  guard.  If  the  Phoenicians  threaten 
Palestine ;  a  Joseph  rises  in  Egypt  to  give  them  an 
asylum;  if  subjected  to  persecution  and  oppression  and 
change  of  religion  there;  a  Moses  comes  to  lead  them 
to  the  sight  of  the  promised  land.  If  intercourse  with 
strangers  pollute  the  race,  another  descendant  of  the 
house  of  Israel  appears  to  rebuild  the  temple  on  the 
simple  basis  of  reason  and  faith.  When,  after  a  series 
of  years,  its  guardians  become  corrupt  and  treacher- 
ous, again  in  the  centre  of  population  and  civilization 
of  that  age,  a  new  reformation  occurs  in  Europe  ;  and 
when  again  Europe  in  her  turn,  becomes,  by  reason  of 
her  tyrannies,  her  civil  wars,  and  her  crimes,  an  unsafe 
depository,  translated  across  the  seas  by  a  few  deter- 
mined men,  we  see  it  spreading  over  a  western  conti- 
nent, and  blessing  millions  in  its  progress. 

Here  we  may  see,  rising  from  the  earliest  ages,  like 
noble  granite  formations,  primitive  truth ;  which, 
through  successive  generations  of  men,  and  events  of 
time,  amidst  the  destruction  of  millions  of  human  be- 
ings, the  ruin  of  magnificent  empires,  aqd  the  changes 
of  the  face  of  nature  herself,  has  overturned  dynasties, 
outlived  persecutions,  stood  firm  over  oceans  of  blood, 


21 

repelled  flames,  only  to  s]:)read  upon- the  bosom  of  na- 
ture the  fatilizing  mold  whence  man  reaps  the  bread 
of  life;  only  to  pour  the  rich  treasures  of  virtue  over 
the  whole  extent  of  civilized  lands. 

Now  take  in  connexion  with  the  objects  and  estab- 
lishment of  this  system,  any  of  the  ancient  religions. 
View  their  unmeaning  mysteries  ;  their  senseless  pa- 
geantry ;  their  horrid  sacrifices  ;  their  connexion  with 
the  most  sensual  and  vicious  pleasures.  Take,  indeed, 
the  strange  superstitions  and  wild  opinions  of  their 
M^isest  men.  One  declares  that  nature  and  chance  go- 
vern the  universe,  and  that  all  courage  to  support  a 
renunciation  of  truth,  arises  from  the  excitement  of  a 
spacious  theatre,  and  numerous  spectators.  Some, 
that  matter,  by  viciousness,  occasions  evil.  Others, 
that  the  divine  influence  extends  in  its  full  effect  to 
the  sphere  of  the  moon,  but  acts  feebly  in  inferior  re- 
gions ;  and  others  that  God  governs  matters  of  conse- 
quence, but  neglects  those  of  small  moment.  Some 
deny  altogether  a  God,  but  say  there  is  a  something 
without  beginning  or  end;  a  pure  spirit;  a  subtile  mat- 
ter, an  intelligent  fire,  which  governs  the  universe. — 
Hear  the  divine  Plato  reasoning  upon  the  creation. 
God  he  says  is  single,  immutable  and  infinite.  He  ex- 
isted in  the  profundity  of  eternity  :  Matter,  equally 
eternal,  subsisted  in  fearful  fermentation :  At  God's 
command  the  whole  mass  Vvas  agitated  by  a  fructify- 
ing motion  :  To  direct  the  four  elements  he  prepared 
a  soul,  partly  etherial,  partly  material.  Placed  in  the 
centre  of  the  world  it  assumed  a  spherical  figure,  the 
most  perfect  of  forms. 

It  was  well  said  by  one,  not  supposed  very  devout, 
that  the  relii^^ion  of  some  is  in  their  minds,  some  in  theii' 


22 

hearts.  What  clear  ideas  the  ancients  had  of  rehoion, 
was  in  their  minds.  It  was  reserved  for  Revelation  to 
touch  the  heart. 

2.  Nor  is  the  philosophy  of  the  ancients  less  a  sub- 
ject of  comparison,  in  view  of  the  question  of  utilitj^ 
What  idea,  w4iat  clear  conception  of  truth,  what  prac- 
tical benefit,  arose  from  the  various  opinions  of  an- 
cient philosophers — some  contending  that  fire  is  com- 
posed of  pyramidical,  others  spherical  particles — That 
the  element  of  earth  tended  to  the  centre;  the  water 
to  rise  above  earth,  air  above  water,  and  fire  above  air. 
That  nature  acts  by  contrary  effects ;  that  when  earth 
loses  its  frigility  it  turns  to  fire;  deprived  of  dryness,  it 
is  turned  to  water. 

Can  any  one  in  his  senses  contend  that  such  idea^ 
as  these,  are  entitled  to  any  regard,  when  placed  by 
the  side  of  the  well  defined,  simple  rules  of  the  philo- 
sophy of  the  present  day  ?  Will  the-  vague  notions  of 
Aristotle,  comjoare  with  those  of  a  Cuvier,  a  Herchell, 
a  Watt,  or  a  Franklin?  Will  the  opinions  of  even 
Plato,  in  the  scale  of  human  benefits,  rank  with  the 
systems  of  Nev^^ton,  or  Lock  1  Will  the  idea  of  one,  that 
man  is  an  untamable  beast  of  prey,  compare,  in  just 
sentiment,  and  benevolent  feeling,  with  the  mind  that 
animated  a  Howard? 

3.  We  pass  from  these  enquiries  to  a  consideration 
of  constitutions  and  laws. 

Take  the  case  of  Egypt — 

In  Egypt  all  power  of  government  was  concentra- 
ted in  a  hereditary  monarchy,  which  combined  both 
civil  and  religious  functions.  If  that  country  had 
judges  and  legislators,  they  were  priests  of  a  false  re- 
ligion, dependant  for  appointment  and  compensation 


23 

on  the  pleasure  of  a  King.  The  national  tribunal  was 
composed  of  men  drawn  from  the  same  caste.  It  is 
easy  to  see  that  the  political  institutions  of  a  country 
will  be  of  the  lowest  order  when  administered  by  men 
whose  station  and  pay  depend  on  a  head,  himself  the 
weak  issue  of  hereditary  descent;  or  a  bold  adven- 
turer, whose  ambition  is  for  conquest,  whose  pleasure 
is  blood.  Egypt,  therefore,  with  all  her  numerous 
population,  her  learning,  her  resources,  was  wanting 
in  that  widely  diffused  idea  of  justice  and  utility  which 
alone  stems  the  torrent  of  luxury  and  arrests  national 
crimes.  She  therefore  declines  and  makes  way  for 
Greece. 

Greece  makes  one  step  in  the  system  of  government. 
She  establishes  a  guard  upon  the  power  of  public  sta- 
tion. Solon,  regarding  taxation  as  the  most  dangerous 
of  all  authority,  provided  a  check  in  the  ratification  of 
the  people  (Aristot.  de.  Rhet.)  but  that  people  were  a 
lawless  rabble,  with  no  check  upon  themselves.  He 
instituted  lawgivers;  but  they  administered  the  law. 
(Plut.  in  Solon.)  He  forbade  the  acquisition  of  lands 
by  purchase  or  gift,  and  confined  its  acquirement  to 
inheritance  and  marriage: — Thus  he  encouraged  popu- 
lation, but  crippled  commerce,  a  necessary  means  of  its 
support.  The  right  of  citizenship  was  dependent 
sometimes  on  proof  of  descent  through  two  generations, 
(Heeren);  sometimes  on  the  fact  that  one  was  a  for- 
eigner of  influence.  In  this  way  the  most  valuable 
privilege  which  can  be  conferred  by  a  State,  was  in- 
fluenced by  fortune,  not  public  services,  or  private  vir- 
tues. With  respect  to  representation,  .instead  of  the 
only  safe  rule,  that  a  few  good  and  wise  men  should  be 
selected  to  represent  the  mass,  that  mass  itself,  with  all 


24 

its  ignorance  and  crime,  possessed  an  equality  of  voices 
in  the  legislative  assemblies.  Thus,  folly  and  vice 
neutralized  probity  and  wisdom.  Boeotian  dullness 
and  Cretan  falsehood,  stood  by  the  side  of  a  Socrates, 
and  destroj-ed  the  influence  of  his  justice  and  intelli- 
gence. These  and  other  defects,  all  exhibit  alike,  the 
inertness  of  rules,  upon  a  mass,  incapable  of  moral 
sentiment.  The  populace  governed  through  fear,  are 
dangerous  subjects.  Tt  is  the  free,  and  virtuous,  who 
can  be  trusted  with  power. 

Rome,  during  the  periods  of  her  kingdom,  her  re- 
public, and  her  empire,  was  constantly  trembling  with 
convulsions  and  deluged  with  blood.  Still  she  ad- 
vanced in  the  knowledge  of  government  and  laws. 
The  times  were,  however,  not  yet  ripe  for  that  moral 
developement  in  the  minds  of  her  people,  necessary  to 
insure  a  permanent  and  happy  constitution.  The  most 
dreadful,  but  fruitless  revolutions,  therefore,  soon 
sprang  up  in  her  bosom.  If  the  violation  of  the  chaste 
Lucretia  induced  the  expulsion  of  a  Tarquin,  it  was 
follo^ved  by  submission  to  an  intollerani  democracy: 
if  the  w^ronos  done  a  beautiful  and  artless  Viroinia 
roused  the  vigilance  of  sleeping  liberty,  it  was  only 
that  it  might-  slumber,  again,  on  the  bosom  of  luxury 
and  pleasure  :  if  the  pride  of  a  plebian's  wife  induced 
the  elevation  of  that  class  to  public  honors,  it  was  only 
to  exalt  ignorance,  and  corrupt  what  remained  of  the 
innocence  of  humble  life. 

The  state  of  the  laws  of  ancient  times,  also  forcibly 
illustrates  our  position.  These,  like  all  human  insti- 
tutions, have  varied ;  at  one  time  challenging  the  ad- 
miration, at  an  another,  the  abhorrence  of  men,  fre- 
quently surrounded  with  a  venerable  mystery,   into 


25 

which  the  unprofessional  eye  has  not  dared  to  ob-^ 
trude;  often  displaying  unmeaning  and  useless  forms 
eliciting  only  the  contempt  of  men.  The  antiquarian 
finds  much  that  is  curious  and  interesting,  in  the  histo- 
ry of  courts  of  justice  and  their  procedure,  as  well  as 
in  the  spirit  of  the  laws  of  those  times.  The  word 
court,  for  instance,  synonymous  among  us  with  events 
and  scenes  of  such  familiar  character,  owes  its  name  to 
the  enclosed  space  surrounding  the  tent  first,  and  af- 
terwards the  castle  of  the  Lord,  when  his  retainers 
met  to  settle  their  controversies.  In  early  times  the 
Semnons  held  courts  in  a  forest,  consecrated  by  the 
Augurs;  and  Under  the  shade  of  a  venerated  oak,  the 
Druids  of  ancient  Britain  administered  justice.  In 
Germany  it  was  the  practice  of  the  peasants  to  assem- 
ble under  a  tree,  and  settle  conflicting  rights.  "Upon  a 
high  place  under  the  beech,  a  judge  ought  to  hold  his 
sittings."  (Origenes  du  Droit  Francais,  Michelet.) 
These  sittings  were  accompanied  with  singular  cere- 
monies. One  tribunal  is  said  to  have  held  its  sessions 
in  a  boat,  two  hundred  feet  from  the  shore:  When 
the  judge  pronounced  sentence,  he  caused  his  right 
foot  to  touch  the  water.  Justice  was  also,  often,  ad- 
ministered in  caverns,  and  upon  tombs  ;  still  more  fre- 
quently upon  a  mountain.  Thus  we  derive  the  terms, 
"The  mountain  of  right."  "The  rock  of  law  and  jus- 
tice." In  Upland,  the  jury  to  decide  causes,  placed 
themselves  upon  twelve  stones;  often  they  sat  in  the 
court  of  the  church,  sometimes  in  the  porch  of  the  mill ; 
Under  the  Linden  tree  in  summer,  and  within  a  mill  or 
barn  in  winter.  The  prayer  of  a  certain  petition  was, 
that  a  count  would  construct  a  mansion  in  such  man- 
ner that  neither  rain  or  sun  would  impede  the  public 


26 

justice  (Michelet.)  In  a  direction  given  for  build* 
ing  the  judge's  seat,  instructions  were  given  to  build 
up  on  three  sides,  with  bars  in  front;  lest  some  rude 
cavalier  should  violate  the  authority  of  the  judge.  The 
Areopagus,  truly  the  most  perfect  of  the  courts  of  for- 
mer times,  is  often  referred  to  as  an  example.  But  how 
shall  we  reconcile  its  incongruous  judgments  with  the 
idea  of  law  founded  on  reason  and  the  rights  of  men. 
I  will  cite  a  few.  A  poor  bird,  from  fear,  had  taken  re- 
fuge in  the  bosom  of  a  Senator,  and  was  stifled  by  him. 
The  assembly  unanimously  decreed  his  punishment; 
for  said  they,  he  who  has  his  heart  shut  against  pity, 
should  not  be  allowed  to  have  the  lives  of  citizens  at 
his  mercy.  A  won^an  was  brought  before  this  court 
accused  of  procuring  death  by  poison.  The  proof 
was,  that  loving  tenderly  an  individual,  she  endeavor- 
ed to  gain  his  affections  by  a  philter  of  which  he  died. 
She  was  dismissed  without  punishment,  the  court 
deeming  her  more  unfortunate  than  culpable.  On 
another  occasion,  a  woman,  exasperated  at  the  barbari- 
ty of  a  second  husband  and  his  son,  who  slew  a  youth 
she  had  borne  a  former  spouse,  determined  to  poison 
them  both  :  The  Areopagus,  after  a  long  advisare,  or- 
dered the  prosecutor  and  accused  to  appear  again  be- 
fore the  court,  one  hundred  years  from  that  time.  But 
how  shall  w^e  harmonise  the  judgments  of  these  cases, 
in  which  nature  and  mercy  softened  the  firmness  of  the 
judge,  with  that  which  I  now  relate?  A  leaf  of  gold 
having  fallen  from  the  crown  of  Diana,  it  was  taken 
by  an  infant.  The  child  was  so  very  young,  that  it 
was  necessary  to  make  trial  of  its  discernment.  The 
leaf  of  gold,  some  dice  €ind  other  play  things,  and  a 
piece  of  money,  were  presented  to  it.     The  child  gave 


27 

the  pi'eference  to  the  money,  and  the  judges  declar- 
ing this  sufficient  proof  of  capacity  for  guilt,  it  was  put 
to  death.  Trials  in  the  Areopagus  were  conducted 
thus: — Parties  were  placed  amid  the  bleeding  mem- 
bers of  the  victims,  and  there  they  took  an  oath,  con- 
firmed by  awful  imprecations  on  themselves  and  fami- 
lies. 

Three  thousand  brass  tablets  were  necessary  to  sus- 
tain the  early  statutes  of  the  Senate  and  popular  asseni- 
blies;  some  of  which  embraced  a  hundred  chapters. 
Marriage  was  si'lemnised  by  presenting  fire  and  water. 
Divorce  by  delivery  of  keys.  Manumission  was  de- 
noted by  a  blow  upon  the  cheek ;  and  one  was  forbid- 
den to  commit  a  trespass,  by  the  casting  of  a  stone.  A 
pledge  or  deposit  was  the  clenched  fist;  a  covenant,  a 
broken  straw;  and  possession  of  lands  was  made  ad- 
verse by  breaking  a  twig. 

Coming  down  later  into  history,  we  see  not  much 
to  boast  of,  until  after  the  age  of  Elizabeth.  With  our 
glorious  Saxon  ancestry,  murder  was  not  capital,  but 
paid  for  in  money.  In  1600,  oral  testimony  was  ex- 
cluded from  the  trial  of  persons  criminally  charged, 
and  even  the  appeal  of  battle  existed  to  the  year  1818. 
Jurors  were  sworn  to  speak,  not  to  ascertain  the  truth. 
Evidence  against  a  prisoner  was  taken  in  his  absence. 
He  heard  the  charge  against  him  for  the  first  time, 
when  brought  from  prison  for  trial,  and  was  then  re- 
quired instantly  to  plead.  He  was  not  allowed  coun- 
sel, and  was  frequently  put  to  the  rack  to  compel  him 
to  criminate  himself  Even  the  learned  and  virtuous 
Chief  Justice  Hale  condemned  innocent  women  to 
death  for  witchcraft,  on  proofs  furnished  by  ignorance 
and  superstition. 


28 

But  I  cannot  expect  you  to  bear  with  me  while  I 
press  these  illustrations  further.  Will  any  man,  never- 
theless, pretend  that,  so  far  as  stated,  they  do  not  fur- 
nish ample  proof  of  the  superiority  of  our  own  times, 
over  all  that  have  preceded  it.  Take  a  few  facts  in 
comparison. 

1.  With  respect  to  government  and  laws — 

The  principles  of  our  social  compact,  our  constitu- 
tion, and  our  laws  are  well  defined,  reduced  to  plain, 
unambiguous  rules,  and  administered  and  checked  in 
such  manner,  as  to  give  a  law  and  a  remedy  to  every 
man,  whether  high  or  low.  Public  morals  regulate  the 
decision  of  the  judge,  and  force  him,  even  if  a  bad  man, 
from  his  dependence,  to  decide  the  law  correctly.  A 
jury,  of  which  the  citizen  cannot  be  deprived,  stands 
between  the  judge  and  the  accused,  as  well  as  the  civil 
suitor.  An  appeal  court,  regulates  the  errors  of  infe- 
rior tribunals,  and  even  the  generalities  of  the  law, 
are  corrected  by  a  court  of  chancery. 

2.  With  respect  to  philosophy,  science  and  the  me- 
chanic arts. 

View  the  rapid  strides  of  discoveries  in  these,  and 
their  application  to  the  means  of  feeding  and  clothing 
men.  A  philosopher  ascertains  that  sulpher,  nitre,  and 
charcoal,  form  a  combustible  substance — our  ances- 
tors applied  it  to  murder  each  other;  we  to  the  arts, 
Gunpowder  blasts  rocks,  cuts  through  mountains,  and 
excavates  tunnels  for  the  use  of  rail  roads,  and  to  sup- 
ply cities  with  building  materials.  Other  instances- — 
one  ascertains  that  steam  is  expansive,  that  thrown  in^ 
to  a  tube  in  a  particular  way,  it  will  move  a  piston  rod, 
and  produce  action.  On  this  a  Fulton  applies  the 
principle  to  machinery,  and  a  Watt  builds  a  steam  en- 


29 

gine.  A  plant  is  found  bearing  a  wooly  substance. — 
Whitney  invents  a  machine,  which  on  turnino  a  crank, 
separates  the  seed  from  the  wool.  A  Hargraves  in- 
vents a  spinning  jenny;  a  Cartvvright  ihe  power  loom. 
What  effect  have  these  things  had  on  the  population, 
the  wealth,  the  trade,  the  coiTxfort  of  the  world? 

In  1790,  one  steam  engine  was  erected  at  Manches- 
ter in  England;  in  1824,  there  were  two  hundred  in 
operation;  and  in  the  British  empire  in  1837,  668 
steam  vessels.  In  1807,  one  steam  boat,  "The  North 
River,"  built  by  Fulton,  ran  on  the  Hudson  m  New- 
York.  In  1838,  there  were  800  steam  boats  in  the 
United  States.  The  Mississippi  valley  alone  employs 
now,  six  hundred  steamboats,  having  an  aggregate  ton- 
nage of  130,000  tons,  and  navigated  by  21,000  men. 
These  boats  are  not  worth  less  than  $10,400,000,  and 
are  navigated  at  an  annual  expense  of  $12,000,000, 
while  the  value  of  merchandise  embarked  in  them  is 
not  less  than  $200,000,000  annually.  In  1831,  steam 
was  applied  to  locomotives  on  rail  roads  in  this  coun- 
try. In  1838,  it  was  applied  to  vehicles  on  1500  miles 
of  rail  way.  The  power  of  501,898  men  is  now  sup- 
plied by  this  power.  In  1784  eight  bales  of  cotton 
sent  from  America  were  seized  at  Liverpool,  through 
distrust  of  their  being  produced  here:  in  1837  the  Uni- 
ted States  exported  444,211,537  pounds.  In  1814 
there  was  not  a  single  power  loom  at  Manchester;  in 
1824  there  were  30,000 — and  the  total  value  of  cot- 
tons manufactured  in  Great  Britain  now,  is  34,000,000 
pounds  sterling  annually;  of  which  10,000,000  are  paid 
for  wages,  4,000,000  for  the  raw  material,  and  20,000,- 
000  for  machinery,  edifices,  &c.  In  1764  the  popu- 
lation of  Manchester  w^41,032 ,  in  1831  it  was  187,- 


alUl,63^ 


30 

0l9.  In  1700  Liverpool  had  a  population  of  5,145; 
in  1831  it  was  165,175.  In  1780  the  citv  of  Glasgow 
contained  a  population  of  42,832;  in  1831  it  amount- 
ed to  203,000.  In  England  tlie  cotton  manufacture 
furnishes  subsistence  to  1,400,000  persons.  In  the  Uni- 
ted States,  directly  and  indirectly,  to  800,000  persons. 
As  a  most  prominent  instance  of  the  improvement  of 
the  age,  resulting  from  the  influence  of  steam,  let  me 
refer  you  to  one  other  instance. 

The  town  of  Birkenhead  (England)  lies  on  the  shore 
opposite  to  Liverpool,  occupying  the  site  of  the  an- 
cient village  of  the  same  name,  Woodside,  Tramere 
and  Monk's  Ferry.  A  century  ago  Birkenhead  did  not 
contain  three  houses  ;  in  1801  the  number  was  sixteen; 
the  next  ten  years  added  one  more,  and  the  ten  that 
followed  three,  making  the  whole  number  of  houses  in 
1821,  twenty.  Now  there  are  2300  houses.  The 
works  now  in  progress  include  a  series  of  docks,  tidal 
harbor,  harbor  of  refuge,  with  beaching  ground  for 
small  craft,  a  vast  floating  pool  of  130  acres  opening 
out  of  the  tidal  harbor,  presenting  a  fine  and  water 
level  of  800  yards  applicable  to  the  purposes  of  wharfs, 
yards,  landing  places,  graving  docks,  warehouses  and 
other  incidents  of  a  great  mercantile  harbor — a  noble 
market  and  town  hall,  a  railway  tunnel,  &c.  Eight 
railways  are  to  have  their  centre  in  Birkenhead,  uni- 
ting with  all  parts  of  the  kingdom;  and  the  dock  ac- 
commodation, as  laid  dftwn  in  the  plans  now  in  pro- 
gress of  execution,  exceeds  in  extent  that  of  the  first 
commercial  port  of  the  world.  "Enormous  streets,"  it 
is  said,  "have  been  projected,  and  duly  sewered,  pre- 
pared for  water,  and  all  the  ^xuries  that  modern  re- 
finement could  conceive,   More  a  single  house  was 


31 

erected."  The  sewerage  so  provided  by  anticipation, 
exceeds,  it  is  said,  m  extent  the  entire  length  of  sewer- 
age, contained  up  to  this  time  in  the  united  towns  of'Li- 
verpool  and  Manchester;  and  in  the  very  heart  of 
their  rising  city,  where  the  value  of  the  ground  may  be 
reckoned  by  the  inch — with  a  noble  contempt  of  econo- 
my, in  providing  for  the  well  being  of  the  humble — 
the  commissioners  have  given  it  away  by  the  acre,  to 
lay  out  an  extensive  park  for  the  recreation  of  the  la- 
boring man. 

Thus  it  is  seen  that  anciently,  moral  as  well  as  inen-. 
tal  energy,  like  wealth,  confined  to  a  kw,  slumbered 
without  producing  in  the  course  of  centuries,  what  is 
now,  in  the  period  of  a  few  months,  unfolded  in  the 
minds  and  occupations  of  the  great  mass.  Therefore, 
industry  is  awake,  because  it  brings  fortune  and  honor 
to  the  laborer;  ignorance  declines,  because  education 
is  more  general ,  wealth  is  more  useful  because  more 
extensively  distributed. 

This  being  the  state  of  our  conclusions,  it  is  time  to 
ask  ourselves,  how  are  we  affected,  and  what  work 
shall  we  perform,  in  this  state  of  material  and  intellec- 
tual progression? 

As  we  have  advanced,  we  have  seen  nature  devel- 
oped, destroyed,  and  reproduced.  We  have  traced 
the  progress  of  man  in  his  government,  his  laws,  his 
arts,  and  his  philosophy.  Shall  we,  by  analogy,  de- 
termine the  character  and  destiny  of  that  race,  which 
stands  between  us,  and  the  revolutions  of  a  time  equal 
to  the  whole  past  ?  Observe  :-^vegetables  decay  ;  a 
race  of  minute  animals  soon  quickens  in  the  dissolving 
ma«5s.  Observe  these: — you  will  find  them  connected 
link  by  link  with  successive  races,  until  the  chain  ends 


^2 

With  man.  Does  man  bear  the  same  relation  to  other 
more  perfect  beings  above,  which  he  does  to  those  less 
perfect  beneath  him?  Is  there  a  race  yet  to  appear, 
whose  intellectual  and  moral  developments  will  as  far 
exceed  ours,  as  ours  the  Infusoria  which  our  eyes  be- 
hold agitating  the  putressent  mass?  Oh  awful  con- 
templation—Oh wonderful  future.  From  it,  let  us 
turn,  and  be  content  to  know  ourselves — Know  that 
as  the  rock  which  dissolves  into  soil  at  our  feet,  and 
produces  the  mould  whence  we  reap  our  daily  bread; 
and  the  insect  that  lives  its  wonted  time  and  dies,  to 
accomplish  the  work  assigned  it  by  their  Creator; 
we  have  great  moral  and  intellectual  offices  to  per- 
form. Shall  we  in  view  of  our  high  destinies  lie  dowir 
and  care  only  for  ourselves?  Let  each  man  be  up  and 
active  in  his  appropriate  sphere.  Let  not  the  advanc- 
ing age  reproach  us,  that  while  the  rocks,  the  minerals, 
the  brutes,  are  active  and  busy  in  the  great  occupations 
of  nature,  man  only  is  slothful,  useless,  and  indifferent. 

And  will  any  one  say,  "I  am  but  a  small  part  in  the 
great  system  of  the  universe, — Let  those  who  have  ta- 
lents, and  influence,  and  w^ealth,  be  the  actors;  I  will 
be  a  passive  spectator  while  nature  advances  in  her 
truths,  and  evolves  the  destiny  of  the  earth  and  of  man." 
Nature  will  vindicate  her  laws  on  you  who  hold  these 
sentiments.  The  decree  will  go  forth — "cut  them 
down,  why  cumber  they  the  ground."  There  is  no 
escaping  the  dreadful  judgments  visited  upon  those, 
who,  having  understanding,  are  sluggards  in  their  times 
and  opportunities.  Over  such  a  nation  will  be  heard 
the  wail  of  outcast  freedom;  from  their  women  will 
go  forth  the  shrieks  which  rose  from  the  burning  Isles 
of  Scio ;  from  their  men  the  lamentations  of  Persia 


S3 

over  her  annihilated  armies.  War  will  desolate  your 
land ;  factions  will  tear  into  fragments  your  govern- 
ment; rebellion  will  defy  your  laws;  disease  and  fa- 
mine will  visit  your  people. 

«  Crushed  beneath  the  assailing  foe 

Her  golden  head  must  Cissia  bend, 
While  her  pale  virgins  frantic  with  despair, 
Through  all  her  streets  awake  the  voice  of  woe, 

And  flying  with  their  bosoms  bare 

Their  purple  stoles  in  anguish  rend ; 

For  all  her  youth  in  martial  pride, 
In  battle  slain, 
By  Cycreas  craggy  shore  forsaken  lie 

All  pale  and  smeared  with  gore."* 

But  you  will  say  what  others  have  said — 'Our  land  is 
safe  from  this  fate — our  government,  founded  on  a 
written  constitution,  cannot  be  violated  without  detec- 
tion-— our  laws,  within  the  control  of  the  people,  can 
always  be  corrected;  our  institutions  free;  our  re- 
sources extensive ;  our  people  intelligent — what  shall 
harm  us? 

This  very  self  confidence  will  harm,  and,  if  not 
checked,  will  ruin  us.  Free  as  we  are,  happy  as  may 
be  our  institutions,  well  defined  as  may  be  the  laws, 
populous  as  is  our  country,  there  are  loose  and  dan- 
gerous opinions  sowing  the  seeds  of  dreadfully  crimi- 
nal revolutions  in  the  bosom  of  our  country*  They  are 
seen  manifested  in  the  doctrine  that  what  the  people 
will,  however  destructive  of  constitutions,  social  com- 
pacts, private  rights,  public  laws,  must  be  obeyed  by 
a  public  servant.  Public  servants  owe  a  higher  duty 
to  the  law,  than  they  do  to  the  people.     "Obedience 


aFragments  of  jEschylus— The  Persians. 


34 

is  as  much  a  duty,  and  rebellion  as  black  a  sin,  when 
the  people  have  the  sovereign  sway,  as  when  a  single 
person  is  King/'^  They  are  also  seen  in  the  opinion, 
that  necessity  justifies  a  violation  of  law;  again,  in  that 
odious  political  maxim,  that  if  to  the  interest  of  a  par- 
ty, to  support  a  bad  man  for  office,  the  scruples  of  vir- 
tuous men  of  the  party  must  yield;  in  the  prostitution 
of  the  praise  and  abuses  of  the  press;  and  in  the  vile 
and  forever  damned  and  damning  sin  and  shame  of  re- 
pudiation, by  a  State,  of  its  promises  to  pay  a  debt. 

We  now  ask,  who  are  to  assist  in  averting  these 
evils,  and  who  are  to  be  looked  to  as  leaders  in  the 
glorious  work  of  improving  the  destinies  of  men? 

You,  who  annually  meet  to  represent  the  sovereign 
interests  of  Alabama,  nature  calls  on  you  for  your  part. 
Shall  your  time  be  spent  in  fruitless  disquisitions  as  to 
who  shall  fill  this  office  and  who  that  1  Shall  political 
success  alone  distinguish  you,  the  law  makers  and 
statesmen  of  your  time?  Shall  the  perfection  with 
which  you  discipline  your  parties  ;  and  the  prosperity 
with  which  you  imitate  the  policy  of  a  Talleyrand, 
establish  alone  your  title  to  a  page  of  the  State's  his- 
tory? God  forbid  ! — see — social  and  individual  happi- 
ness are  gradually  expanding  under  the  benign  influ- 
ence of  knowledge  and  morality,  and  all  nature  be- 
speakingyouto  become  the  protectors  of  virtue,  of  litera- 
ture, of  science,  and  of  the  arts.  Happy  the  age  which 
exhibits  its  utmost  strength  in  the  cause  of  ethicks  and 
mind.  Happy  the  men  who  are  patrons  of  the  efforts 
producing  new  developments,  in  these  attributes  of  hu- 


aUse  and  abuse  of  Parliaments. 


35 

man  nature.  Will  you  leave  those  who  are  to  become 
the  actors  in  the  great  business  of  the  future,  to  strug- 
gle without  aid,  and  without  means,  towards  the  im- 
proved condition  of  their  day  ?  Look  at  the  youth  of 
the  land  now  awaiting  the  action  of  the  State,  provid- 
ing for  the  universal  education  of  her  sons.  Is  it  ne- 
cessary, at  this  day,  to  remind  you,  or  to  enforce  by  ar- 
gument, that  the  foundation  of  our  government  is  virtue, 
that  virtue  springs  from  education,  and  that  a  state  of 
ignorance  is  the  worst  of  all  states,  a  state  successive- 
ly of  superstition,  barbarity,  despotism,  crime?  Are 
there  none  of  you  proud  of  the  patronage  of  the  virtue 
and  talent  which  will  issue  from  the  gallaries  of  this 
University?  Are  there  none  looking  forward  to  the 
time  when  your  memories  will  be  blest  as  the  consis- 
tent and  popularity,  sacrificing  friends  of  an  institution 
which  nurtures  youthful  wisdom,  and  assists  poverty, 
stricken  genius  1  When  a  long  line  of  illustrious  men 
will  claim  their  al?na  mater  here  ;  when  a  Socrates  will 
die  to  vindicate  truth  ;  when  a  Washington  will  rise  to 
save  a  bleeding  country;  when  a  Franklin  will  exalt 
science  and  philosophy  to  the  portals  of  the  firmanent ; 
who  would  not  be  proud  in  the  reflection,  that  he  bore 
some  part  in  the  glorious  patronage  of  their  virtue, 
their  patriotism,  and  their  genius  ?  When  some  of  these, 
before  us,  will  prove  the  Howards  of  your  country's 
charities,  the  vindicators  of  your  religion,  the  martyred 
advocates  of  your  political  liberty.  When  your  chil- 
dren will  stand  admiring,  while  these  brilliant  lights 
in  the  nation's  history  rise  resplendent  in  their  orbits, 
will  they  turn  blushing  from  the  pageantry  of  a  na- 
tion's triumphs,  and  say,  my  parent  did  nothing  towards 
all  this  \    Awake  men  of  a  meridian  age — arouse  states- 


30 

men  and  patriots  !  A  young  and  noble  generation 
stands  ready  to  receive  from  you,  the  trusts  of  the 
past  age. 

And  you,  gentlemen  of  the  Society,  by  whose  com- 
mand I  speak,  you,  who,  at  the  portals  of  a  new  age, 
curb  a  generous  ambition,  and  anxiously  view  the 
ground  of  conte&t  before  you, — Do  not  your  hearts 
burn  at  the  thought,  that  you  stand  one  step  nigher  the 
future  than  ourselves?  Think  of  that  noble  condition 
which  awaits  j^ou,  when  morals  and  mind  shall  receive 
new  impulses  in  your  time  ;  when  science  shall  be  pro- 
moted, the  arts  advanced,  philosophy  expanded,  and 
human  nature  exalted.  What  part  each  of  you  is  to 
act  in  the  scene,  may  be  of  great  moment  to  the  world. 
Providence  may  be  reserving  you  for  stations  further 
in  advance  of  this  age,  than  a  generation  may  expect. 
To  each  of  you  nature  gives  a  duty  to  be  performed 
in  the  vast  business  of  creation.  Then  press  onward. 
You  cannot  stand  still.  You  must  either  advance  or 
recede,  grow  wiser  and  better,  or  more  ignorant  and 
vicious.  Exert  every  nerve  to  know  your  part,  and 
then  perform  it.  Be  neither  ashamed  of  its  humility, 
nor  fearful  of  its  responsibility.  Some  may  get  be- 
fore you — some  may  reach  loftier  eminences;  but  will 
you  in  mean  jealousy  and  care-worn  envy,  retire  from 
the  contest  of  life,  and  fail  in  your  part?  If  one  is  high- 
er in  station,  is  he  not  still  useful  to  society  1  Does  he 
not  add  to  that  stock  of  knowledge  and  morals  which 
blesses  you  in  your  generation  1  Reason,  gentlemen, 
as  well  as  the  rights  of  men,  alike  reject  the  idea  of 
personal  distinction  resting  on  gifts  of  fortune  ;  but  if 
allowed  so  to  express  the  thought,  there  must  be  an 
aristocracy  of  mind,  there  will  be  a  nobility  of  morals, 


37 

there  shall  be  a  triumph  of  truth  and  justice  !  Continue 
then,  not  only  to  encourage  hopes  of  high  stations  in 
these  moral  and  intellectual  casts,  but  to  deserve  them. 
Explore,  industriously,  the  mines  of  knowledge  to 
which  your  studies  here  introduce  you;  and  dispense 
their  treasures  with  patient  and  generous  labors  to 
your  fellow  men. 

Gentlemen,  I  would  leave  an  important  part  of  my 
task  undone,  were  1  to  close  without  reminding  you, 
that  however  valuable  may  be  the  knowledge  we  have 
been  conriidering,  integrity  is  the  best  of  its  fruits. — 
Your  pursuits  have  made  you  acquainted  with  many 
eminent  men  of  ancient  and  modern  times.  Among 
them  all  we  see  a  kw  looming  out  from  the  darkness 
of  ages  of  ignorance  and  crime,  whose  memories,  men 
regard  with  most  pious  reverence.  Are  they  war- 
riors, stained  with  the  blood  of  many  conquests;  poli' 
ticians,  famous  for  Machiavellian  falsehood  and  treach- 
ery ;  are  they  orators  who  have  prostituted  eloq^aence 
to  purposes  of  oppression  and  injustice;  judges  who 
have  sold  the  highest  attribute  of  virtue  ;  priests,  who 
have  cheated  religion  of  its  vestments  to  mask  the 
w^orst  practices  1  Not  so — they  are  those,  who,  like  the 
pious  and  humble  Stilling,  have  gone  about,  active  in 
the  business  of  devoting  their  talents  to  the  good  of 
men,  physically  and  morally ;  fearless  in  doing  right, 
crying  Jehovah  Jireh — Like  Socrates,  justly  called 
the  most  religious,  the  most  virtuous,  the  most  happy 
of  men.  I  pity  the  man  who  can  rise  from  the  con- 
templation of  this  noble  character,  and  not  wish  he 
w^ere  a  better  man.  Condemned,  as  you  remember,  on 
the  falsehood  of  Melitus,  he  left  the  court  for  his  prison, 
manifesting  no  alteration  in  his  countenance  or  gait. 


38 

To  his  friends,  who  melted  into  tears,  he  said,  "Why 
weep,  are  you  ignorant  that  nature,  when  she  gave  me 
life,  condemned  me  to  resign  it  ?"  To  Appollodorus, 
who  replied,  that  he  mourned  because  he  would  die 
innocent,  he  said,  "Would  you,  I  should  die  guilty  V 
Taking  the  cup  fror.i  his  weeping  jailor,  he  prayed  to 
the  Gods,  and  drank  the  poison.  At  the  scene,  dis- 
may seized  his  friends,  and  their  lamentations  broke 
forth.  "For  shame,"  said  he,  without  emotion.  "We 
are  placed  on  the  earth  as  soldiers,  at  a  post  assigned 
by  their  General.  We  may  not  quit  our  stations  with- 
out the  permission  of  the  Gods,  (but  be  ready  when 
they  call.)  Resume  your  courage  my  friends.  Death 
should  be  accompanied  with  happy  omens."* 

Gentlemen,  the  period  approaches  when  you  will  be 
called  upon,  under  new  auspices,  to  imitate  the  lives 
and  deaths  of  such  men.  Look  back  a  moment  at 
their  times  and  then  at  your  own.  Trace  the  pro- 
gress of  man's  mind  during  the  intervening  eras,  and 
conjecture  what  will  be  its  state,  when,  fifty  years 
hence,  you  stand  on  the  Pisgah  of  another  age,  and 
view  the  glorious  scene  beyond  ;  when  pointing  to  ano- 
ther race,  whom  your  talents  and  virtues  have  led  on- 
ward in  sight  of  new  promised  lands  of  knowledge, 
you  will  see  the  whole  world  spread  out  before  you, 
encompassed  by  a  more  refined  atmosphere,  and  still 
nearer,  and  nearer  yet,  approximating  to  the  sphere  of 
the  Deity  ; — Universal  peace  blessing  its  happy  plains ; 
Religion  resting  on  calm  faith  and  unclouded  reason ; 
Social  life,   a  rational  association  of  good  men ;  Poli- 


a  Plato  in  Phaedon. 


39 

tics,  Patriotism  ;  the  Arts,  usefulness ;  and  Literature, 
truth  1 

Gentlemen,  your  lot  and  destiny,  as  I  have  said, 
may  be  important  in  the  development  of  the  scene. 
Be  ready  then  to  do  all,  and  suffer  all,  in  the  cause  of 
virtue  and  mind.  Be  superior  to  poverty,  to  pride,  to 
indolence.  Learn  to  love  labor,  it  brings  the  bread 
that  is  eaten  w^ithout  dependence.  Encounter  ridicule 
with  fortitude ;  it  schools  true  courage,  and  teaches 
patience.  Shrink  not  from  slanders  and  evil  tongues ; 
they  are  the  lot  of  merit,  and  the  test  of  truth. 

Gentlemen,  I  take  leave  of  you  in  the  language  of 
Socrates  to  his  disciples — It  is  time  that  we  should 
part — We  to  die — You  to  live. 


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